


the sound in silence

by birdlaced



Series: the sound in silence [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Description of burns, Developing Relationship, Episode: s03e12 The Western Air Temple, Language Barrier, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, as far as a writing system goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdlaced/pseuds/birdlaced
Summary: Sokka traced the lines that made up the name of his soulmate, confused as to why he was unable to read them. The characters weren’t like anything he’d seen before, jagged and complex, whereas the language hedidknow—the one on his parents' wrists—was far softer, simpler.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: the sound in silence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830187
Comments: 87
Kudos: 2498
Collections: Oh My God They Were Soulmates, Series that I want to read once they are complete





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I watched alta for the first time when it got put on netflix and almost as soon as I finished it I started writing this pfftt

ten.

Sokka, like all children, got his mark when he was ten. Being so distracted by the novelty of it all, he very enthusiastically showed his parents and didn’t notice the shadow of doubt that overcast their faces. “That’s amazing Sokka,” his mother had told him, and Sokka had beamed at her, the very picture of pride. And how could he not be? He had gotten his _mark._

There was no doubt about it now. Sokka had a soulmate.

“What does it say?” Sokka had asked curiously.

He traced the lines that made up the name of his soulmate, confused as to why he was unable to read them. The characters weren’t like anything he’d seen before, jagged and complex, whereas the language he _did_ know—the one on his parent’s wrists—was far softer, simpler. These were characters he’d never seen on a single wrist in the tribe, come to think of it.

(He’d later learn that those with different marks always left home eventually. Sokka would too, of course—but not for the same reason as all those that came before him.)

“I’ve never seen these letters before," he said, lip curling into an unhappy pout.

Over his head, Kya had given her husband a pointed look, and Hakoda had nodded silently in immediate understanding. The air between them spoke of years spent learning each other, of coming together in the way soulmates should. While he left to do her bidding, his mother had brushed a loose strand of hair from Sokka’s forehead, who hadn’t noticed the small nuances of two people in love. She told him, “That is not the language of our people, Sokka.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, not really understanding what exactly she meant by that. His world began and ended with this large patch of ice, and he knew nothing more. “Where’s it from then?”

His mother gave him a pinched face that also went unnoticed by the boy. “I don’t know,” she told him. “But it’s a land from overseas. I’m certain of that.”

“So then my soulmate isn’t from around here?” Sokka asked, suddenly very excited. His brain was filled to the brim with fantasies of getting on a boat and sailing away to find his soulmate, of going on adventures like in the stories Gran Gran would tell him. “Katara is going to be so jealous when I tell her!”

His mother took both of Sokka’s shoulders in her hands, forcing him to look up at her. He did, a little shocked by her frantic movement. When she spoke, her voice was sharp as ice. “Listen to me Sokka, you can’t show anyone your mark. Not even Katara. Do you understand?”

“Why not?” Sokka asked, blinking at her in confusion. “You and Dad don’t hide your marks.”

“I know, my sweet boy. That’s because your father and I have already found each other and we wanted the whole tribe to know. It’s very different for soulmates with fully formed bonds,” his mother said, her voice losing that hard edge it had a moment ago. “I kept my mark hidden for many years until I was ready to find my soulmate.”

“But I’m ready to find my soulmate now!” Sokka insisted petulantly. “How are they going to know we’re soulmates if I keep my mark covered?”

“It is very rare for one to find their soulmate so early in life,” his mother said. “Those who do must surely be touched by the Spirits themselves. I am not trying to keep you from your destiny Sokka. I just want you to be a good boy and believe that I am doing what’s best for you; and when you’re older, if you want to bear your mark to the world, then I will support you in that decision.”

His father came back in that moment, holding a thick leather bracelet in his hands. It was well worn, and there were beads of varying shade of blue handing from the tassel that would tie the band to his wrist. Sokka’s mother held out a slender hand, her sleeve sliding down her arm, revealing the blue characters on her wrist that made up Hakoda’s name. His father placed the bracelet in her hand before coming around to rest his large hands where Sokka’s mother’s had been previously, a pillar of support for the boy who was about to hide his soul mark from the world.

“This bracelet belonged to your father,” his mother said, giving Sokka a beautiful smile. “He wore it every single day until we found each other. And now we want to give it to you. What do you say, Sokka? Will you wear it for us?”

Sokka stared at the bracelet, and then down at the red lettering on his wrist. He didn’t fully understand why they asked this of him, but he trusted them. “Okay. Just for now though! I’m going to have to take it off when I go searching for my soulmate.”

“I think I can work with that, my sweet boy,” his mother laughed as she secured the band around his wrist. It required a bit of effort because his wrist was still slender, and it wanted to slide down his hand. “You’ll grow into it,” his mother had promised. “Eventually.”

Sokka had in fact grown into the bracelet, but Kya would never see it because she died not many of months later.

* * *

thirteen.

Before his father left to fight the war, he sat Sokka down and said he had something to tell him. Sokka had expected to get a stern lecture about making sure that he kept Katara and Gran Gran safe, as well as watching out for everyone in the village as he was the oldest male left since everyone else was going to fight in the war.

That wasn’t exactly what he got.

“I’ve been battling with myself over when was the best time to tell you. Kya had wanted to wait until you were fifteen, when you could join us overseas in the war efforts. But with her gone it hasn’t exactly been easy making the decisions that she used to take care of. I’ve had to play it by ear for many years now, but I think you’re ready to know the truth,” he had said, voice somber. “As ready as you’ll ever be, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Sokka asked. “Dad, you’re kinda freaking me about here.”

“Your soul mark,” his father said. “We—your mother and I—were worried about you when we saw it. She recognized the language right away and she feared that the rest of the village would take it as an omen and ostracize you.”

“Mom told me she didn’t know what language it was though,” Sokka said. “I asked her the day it appeared.”

“She lied,” Hakoda admitted, “to protect you. Sokka, I wish to be honest with you. I knew the language as well, and I apologize for keeping it from you. Understand that I wanted to protect you for as long as possible. But with me leaving and having no idea when I’ll be back, I thought you needed to know.”

It felt like bile was stuck in Sokka’s throat. “What language is it?” he asked, but he had an inkling that he already knew what his father was trying to tell him; and he had no idea how to react. With bated breath, Sokka prayed that his father didn’t say what Sokka thought he was going to say. Please, please, please—

“It’s the language from the Fire Nation,” his father said, cutting through Sokka’s hope like a knife.

“I knew it,” Sokka murmured, touching the place where he knew the mark was and finding the thick leather of the bracelet his mother had asked him to wear. Despite the barrier, it felt as though the mark burned. Sokka didn’t know how he'd be able to stand looking at it now.

Hakoda looked taken aback. “How did you know?”

“You and mom always seemed so panicked when it came to my mark. I know you tried to hide it, but I noticed. And when she died I… I started wondering if there was any connection to the war. I didn’t have any way of finding out what the language of the Fire Nation looked like, but I had my suspicions.”

“Sokka, I am so sorry,” his father said. “I should have told you sooner.”

“Do you know what it says, at least?” Sokka asked, going to untie the bracelet that he spent the better part of the last three years wearing like a second skin. Ignoring the way his chest ached when he saw his father’s eyes flash in disgust at the language of the people who murdered his wife, Sokka held his wrist out for Hakoda to read.

“Sokka, I don’t know if—” Hakoda glanced around, looking anxious. It was as though he was worried someone would suddenly appear and see the mark and turn their ire on Sokka. Nobody came though. It was just Sokka, his father and that damned red soul mark on his wrist.

“Dad, please,” Sokka begged. “Please.”

He could see when Hakoda gave in.

Sokka closed his eyes as he felt his dad take his wrist into his hand, forefinger tracing the lines that Sokka had long ago memorized. There was a long pause, and Sokka held his breath while he waited for his father to say something. Anything.

“I can’t read all of it,” his father admitted, and Sokka’s heart fell out his chest and made a home among the ice below his feet. “But, I know this part right here is commonly read as ‘Ko.’”

“‘Ko,’” Sokka repeated, pulling his hand away to look at the part his father had indicated. “‘Ko.’”

In only a couple of years Sokka would be travelling overseas to join his fellow tribesmen in assisting in the war against the Fire Nation. What would he do if he met his soulmate and they were a prisoner? Or worse, what if they were a soldier?

Some part of Sokka—the one still steeped in childish naivety—was almost hopeful that he could figure out something. After all, he was Sokka: strategic, resourceful, quick on his toes. Maybe he could work something out, talk his soulmate down from whatever Fire Nation nonsense they’d been raised on. He could bring them here, to the Water Tribe, and everything would all work out.

Despite being the one entertaining these thoughts, Sokka almost scoffed in disbelief. The Fire Nation birthed ruthlessness. To hope for anything else was a fool's dream.

His father sighed at Sokka and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, much like his mother used to do. “I’ll miss you and Katara,” Hakoda said. “You must be strong for her while I’m gone. Put this soulmate business aside for now and do your duty to the tribe, and to your family.”

Sokka glanced up, tucking his arm and hiding it at his side while he clung to the bracelet with his other hand. “I know, Dad. They come first, no matter what.”

“Good,” Hakoda said, nodding his head. “Remember that. I have to finish packing up. Go find your sister and I’ll come back to say goodbye before we must leave.”

Leave.

Sokka’s stomach churned. He had almost forgotten that his father had wanted to speak to him because he was _leaving,_ off to fight and maybe even die for his freedom.

“Okay, Dad.”

In a decisive moment for the boy, Sokka took that small piece of unfounded hope he had and crushed it like snow beneath his heel. His soulmate was Fire Nation. His father was off to battle Fire Nation in war. His mother had been killed by Fire Nation. There was no hope left to be had. Sokka could not and would not hope for anything, insofar as his soulmate was concerned.

His father left that very day, leaving the village under the protection of a thirteen year old boy who felt as though the other half of him was evil incarnate for taking everything he loved from him.

* * *

fifteen.

Aang recognizes his name on Katara’s wrist right away, and he has no qualms about pointing it out the moment he notices. Katara glances down in shock at the swirly gray letters that are visible on her wrist.

Like Sokka, she too had never been able to read the name she had. Nobody could. They had no idea that was because it was written in a language that had been wiped from existence over a hundred years ago because of the destruction of the Air Nomads.

Also like Sokka, she’d been wearing a bracelet to cover the mark since she was ten. Kya had been gone for a year by then, but Hakoda had gifted Katara with the most beautiful turquoise bracelet that used to belong to their mother, and Katara had promised to wear it as Sokka had. And she had kept her promise, wearing it every single day for the next four years.

But it must have slipped off at some point between leaving home and finding Aang, because when Aang had pointed at her soul mark, the bracelet was nowhere to be found. Katara battles with the joy of finding her soulmate and the sadness of losing her mother’s bracelet.

Aang offers to search the waters with her as they head back to the village on a freaking sky bison. They find it floating along a patch of ice, bobbing with the movement of the water. Katara fishes it out of the water, sliding it on the wrist that doesn’t have her mark.

Sokka knows he should feel happy for his sister, and he does. He swears, he’s _so_ happy for her. But some nasty part of him had always been relieved that he and Katara seemed to be cut from the same cloth. Sokka had a name written in the crimson color of the blood spilled by the people his soulmate belongs to, and Karata had a name that no one could even begin to decipher, as gray as a wispy cloud and just as unattainable.

Or so they thought.

Katara had always insisted that the Spirits had a reason for giving her such an unknown mark, and that fate would lead her to her soul mate even if she couldn’t read their name. And they certainly did. So now Sokka was alone again.

There’s a flush of red on her face as Aang takes her wrist and tells her what each character means. “This means ‘Aa.’ Which is different from ‘A’ but kind of similar to ‘Ah,’ which is written like this.” Aang does a vague squiggly motion in the air.

Sokka can’t really follow what the air bender is saying, and he doubts Katara can either. But she's smiling as the boy blabbers on about this and that as they float on the water. She follows the pattern he’s making in the air and tries to copy it.

“Gran Gran is going to lose her mind,” Sokka says, leaning back against the saddle and glancing down at the water. “We went out for fish and instead we’re coming back with Katara’s soulmate.”

“You’re just jealous that we haven’t found your soulmate,” Katara shoots back. “Maybe Aang could help! If you’d let him look at it—”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Sokka has kept his promise to his mother for five years now, letting no one see his mark. Not even Katara. It had caused a rift in their relationship for many months, but she’d eventually backed down when Gran Gran spoke to her about it (Sokka never showed Gran Gran either, but he long since suspected that she might have known because of the pitying looks she gave him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking). She’s too smart for her own good. One glance at the language of the Fire Nation and she'd probably be able to piece together that her brother’s soulmate was the enemy.

“Well, I’m here if you need me,” Aang says, a bright smile on his face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sokka says with faux cheer, ignoring the jab at his side from Katara’s sharp elbow.

As expected, Gran Gran does in fact lose her mind. All the village goes gaga over Aang and his air bending and the way he looks at Katara like she hung the moon. They crowd around him asking question after question and Aang is more than happy to answer them all. It goes on for Spirits knows how long before Gran Gran takes pity on the new couple.

“Alright, alright,” Gran Gran says, her hand resting on the head of a particularly excitable child. “Why don’t we give these two the chance to get to know each other, yes? There’s still many chores left to be done and we’ve dallied long enough.”

Being the village’s elder, everyone tends to take Gran Gran’s words like law and they’re quick to scatter. Sokka follows. He could stay, but he would much rather rally up the boys for their daily dose of warrior training rather than being a third wheel while Katara takes Aang for a tour of the village. Not that there’s much to see.

After gathering the kiddos and talking them out of potty breaks every five minutes, he leads them through the motions his father taught him before he left. Jab. Perry. Swing. Slice. They use sticks rather than an actual weapon, but Sokka isn’t about to hand a six year old a spear. It’s a recipe for disaster.

“What’s that?” one of the snot nosed kids asks, pointing at something behind Sokka’s head as Sokka is trying to explain how his boomerang works.

In the Southern Water Tribe, there’s not much to see but igloos and ice. Except for, apparently, the old Fire Nation warship. Sokka doesn’t realize what he’s looking at first. It’s a flash of light in the sky—like a flare. No. Not like a flare. It _is_ a flare.

“Oh no,” Sokka says, barely restraining a curse, breaking out into a run towards that stupid ship that his dad had always warned them to stay away from. Katara should know better, oh Spirits—

He runs into Katara and Aang running along the trail towards the village, hands clasped together. Sokka immediately turns his rage to Aang, who takes a step back at the look of anger painted all over Sokka’s face.

“You!” He pokes Aang hard in the chest. The boy stumbles. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The Fire Nation is going to be on our asses now because of you. Did you do it on purpose, you traitor?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Of course you didn’t mean to do it,” Sokka sneers, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You just decided to show up and shoot off a flare from a Fire Nation warship for no reason, right?”

“No that’s not it at all! This was a big misunderstanding,” Aang says, face pleading.

A crowd of villagers has formed, staring at Aang—and by association Katara—with suspicion and anger and fear. Sokka’s anger evaporates in an instant, replaced by an anxiety over what the village may do to his sister if they think she's a traitor.

 _No,_ Sokka thinks, _this isn’t how it should be._ It’s Sokka they should be fearing, and they certainly _would_ be fearing him if they knew the truth. Sokka is the one who has a traitor for a soulmate, an enemy.

And while Sokka may not trust Aang as far as he can throw him, it doesn’t change the fact that he is Katara’s soulmate. He has her name on his wrist in the deepest cerulean Sokka has ever seen, and that has to account for something. Why would the universe put Katara with someone evil? No, there has to be something else going on here.

But it’s too late, Sokka has lit the flame and enraged the other tribe members. Despite Aang's best efforts, it doesn’t stop the rest of the village from forcing him out. It also doesn’t stop Katara from insisting she’s going to go with Aang and not abandon her soulmate the very same day she meets him. Miraculously, Aang manages to convince her to stay with her people for the time being, promising that he’s going to get everything sorted out before sailing away on his massive bison.

“Family is everything, Katara,” he had said, gripping her hand tightly. “I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

When he leaves Katara is inconsolable, ugly crying into her sleeves; Gran Gran is forlorn but as steady as an iceberg; and Sokka has a rag tag group of boys that he needs to prepare for battle against fully grown Fire Nation soldiers that could land on their shores at any moment. Nothing is going as it should.

Sokka hears the ship well before he sees it. There’s explosions in the distance, pops and crackles of fire that carry from the expanse of water to his ears. Squinting against the mist, Sokka tries his best to figure out what direction the noise is coming from, but with visibility at near zero it’s almost impossible.

He doesn’t see the ship until it’s right in front of him, and with little choice, Sokka decides to fight for his people. If he dies at the hand of the Fire Nation, so be it. Sokka will fight. He does fight. Sokka fights with all his might, and it isn’t enough. Not until Aang appears again and gives himself up for their safety, effectively revealing his identity as the avatar.

Somehow—miraculously—it all works out. Aang is rescued, the Southern Water Tribe survives for another day, and Sokka is on his way to the Northern Water Tribe with his sister and the avatar. And despite all of the fear of dying, despite the shock at meeting the avatar and having him be his sister’s soulmate, this day will forever be seared into Sokka’s mind for one reason and one reason only: it’s the first time Sokka meets his soulmate.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

* * *

A couple of weeks later they're flying overseas on Appa when Katara shoves a wrinkled piece of paper beneath Sokka’s nose and asks, “Sokka, what does this say?”

It’s obvious she’s had it stuffed into her bag for some time, and it’s been crumpled up and straightened out multiple times. One glance at the paper tells him that it’s written in the language of the Fire Nation. “I don’t know. I can’t read the Fire Nation’s language.”

His stomach twists uncomfortably, feeling like a lie. It’s not a lie though. Not really. Sokka can read one character in the Fire Nation language, and nothing else.

“I can!” Aang says happily, taking the paper out of Katara’s hand and translating it for them at rapid speed. Apparently it’s about them. It’s a wanted poster. There’s a description of all three of them, plus Appa, and their last known location of Omashu. Aang doesn’t seem to mind the fact that they’re on the run from the Fire Nation, and tells the pair, “You know, I can teach you how to read the Fire Nation’s language, if you want! We can start with this wanted poster. It’s not much but at least it’s a start.”

“Really?” Katara asks happily, eyes shining. She plasters herself to Aang’s side before wildly gesturing to Sokka. “We would really appreciate it. Come on Sokka, Aang is going to teach us how to read this paper.”

“I’ll pass thanks,” Sokka says, feigning casualness to try and hide the pounding of his heart.

“Sokka,” Katara says, exacerbated. “We have to learn how to read these things. We could come across something important and we wouldn’t even know it because we never took the chance to learn how to read it.”

"Meh, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," Sokka says with a shrug.

"That's not even how the saying goes! You're insufferable," Katara says with a scowl. "Aang, forget about Sokka. I'm willing to learn."

"Uh, sure Katara," Aang says slowly before pointing down at the paper. "This word here means criminal!"

Sokka does his best to tune them out for the rest of the afternoon.

Later that night, while Aang and Katara are sleeping, Sokka rifles through Katara’s bag until he finds that damned wanted poster. He unfurls it, careful where it’s become delicate from all the folding and unfolding, and he stares down at the foreign writing. His eyes follow the lines of unfamiliar characters, looking for the ones he’s long since memorized. When he finds nothing, he doesn't know whether to feel relief or not. Sokka shoves the paper back into Katara’s bag and turns around to go to sleep.

The next morning he apologizes to Katara and asks Aang to teach him how to read the wanted poster. As much as it pains him to admit it, Katara had been right. It’s important that Sokka starts learning how to read the language of the Fire Nation, and if he comes across the characters that make up the name of his soulmate, well now _that’s_ a bridge Sokka will burn when he gets to it.

* * *

The Northern Water Tribe is so much bigger than that small rinky-dink patch of ice that Sokka calls home. Better yet, the Northern Tribe has Yue.

From the beginning they both know that they aren’t each other’s soulmates, but Yue still kisses him anyway.

And then she pushes him away and tells him this is a bad idea. She's engaged apparently, but before Sokka has a chance to feel any sort of guilt about what they'd done, she shows her wrists to him. Bare. A bare wrist. No mark. Spirits, Sokka didn't even know you could be born without a soulmate.

"I don't have a soulmate," she tells him. "My fiance does, but he and my father hardly think that matters when it comes to the sanctity of the tribe. I think it's wrong, to not care for your other half, but there's little I can do in that regard."

"Yue—"

"I'm telling you this because I don't want to get in the way of you and your soulmate when you finally meet them," Yue barrels on, clinging tightly to his hands. "I don't want to get in the way of _two_ fated pairs. I won't do it."

"My soulmate is from the Fire Nation," Sokka blurts, and immediately wishes he could take it back when he sees the way Yue's eyes widen in horror. "I don't want them, whoever they are. _I don’t want them."_

"Sokka…"

“I—” Sokka chokes on his fear. “Crap, why did I say that? Yue, please don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Sokka, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Yue says, voice as soft as a rain. “But, I think you should. You should tell your sister, at the very least.”

“I can’t,” Sokka says, anxiety threatening to bubble over. He shakes his head roughly. “Imagine what people will think of me. The Fire Nation has destroyed so many lives, they killed our mom and took our dad. And someone from there is my other half—the echo of my heart. If Katara was to find out… You don’t understand, Yue.”

“Then make me understand,” Yue says. “Sokka, I don’t believe we can be together given the circumstances, but I am still willing to lend a much needed ear as a friend. I promise that anything you may want to get off your chest will never leave my lips after this night.”

And so Sokka talks. He talks about getting his mark, about his mother begging for him to hide the mark and they dying not even a year later at the hands of the very people his soulmate belongs to. He talks about the way his father always looked at him with a tinge of disappointment because of who his soulmate was. He talks about being unable to read his mark, and being terrified of the day he’ll finally be able to. He talks about the fear he feels about being discovered, the fear that Katara will hate him and his village will ostracize him. Sokka talks and talks until he’s hoarse and shaking from the over abundance of emotions.

“Oh Sokka. Come here.” Yue hugs him tightly, very politely ignoring the way her shoulder quickly becomes damp with his tears. She’s too nice. Sokka wishes she was his soulmate instead. Or he wishes that at the very least she had a soulmate of her own. It's unfair that such a gentle soul wasn’t destined to have another half.

They stay there for a couple of minutes, rocking together. To an outsider, Sokka is sure it would look like some romantic tryst, but that’s not it at all, even if he had wished it to be earlier this evening. Eventually Sokka’s shoulders manage to stop shaking and he breathes in deep her scent, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“I needed this,” Sokka mumbles into her shoulder before pulling back and wiping at his face in an attempt to hide the tears Yue already knows are there. “I just realized how bad it’s sucked keeping this all bottled up. Felt like I was gonna explode.”

Yue smiles at him, a gentle thing that touched Sokka’s soul. “Catharsis is necessary. It’s healthy, even. I’m very glad you trusted me with this, Sokka.”

“Me too,” Sokka says. “Even though I didn’t mean to. Sorry about taking up so much of your time. We should probably be heading back soon.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Yue agrees, but makes no move to start walking. “But before we do, I want to tell you something. About what you said, that you can’t actually read your mark…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you want me to read it for you?” Yue asks, and it’s as though the world stops. “I can read the language used in the Fire Nation, so if you wanted to finally know, I could read it for you. It’s your choice though.”

Sokka touches the cuff on his wrist. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“That’s okay.” Yue leans back, staring up into the night sky. “But Sokka, you can’t outrun fate forever. That’s why it’s called fate. The day will come when you have to come face to face with your destiny, and it will be much better if you have people there to support you.”

“Is this your way of telling me I should tell Katara again?” Sokka asks, but he already knows the answer. “I’ll tell her. I promise that I will. Just give me some more time, yeah?”

“Time is a precious thing, best not to waste it.”

Sokka wonders if maybe Yue knew more about this whole moon business than she’d been letting on, because when she’s gone from the mortal world and glowing in the night sky, Sokka spends many nights staring at her and wondering about this very conversation.

You can’t outrun fate.

Time is precious.

She’d been right, of course, but Sokka never really doubted her to begin with.

* * *

“So,” Toph says, leaning back against a massive rock while she watches Aang and Katara work through their water bending techniques. “What’s your soulmate’s name?”

Sokka chokes on his own spit. “W-What?”

“I thought I’d ask,” Toph says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Seeing as Twinkle Toes and Sweetness over there are so obviously soulmates.”

“How could you tell?”

The only answer Sokka gets is a snort which, okay that’s fair. Anyone could tell that those two were a fated pair, even if they have yet to seal their bond with a kiss.

“I can’t read it,” Sokka says after it becomes obvious Toph isn't going to let this go. “I don’t know what it says.”

“That’s a lie,” Toph says immediately, and Sokka spares a silent curse for forgetting she can feel when someone’s lying. She squints, head cocking to one side. “Or, half a lie. Come on, spill.”

Sokka glances at Katara and Aang as they practically splash around in the water rather than actually honing their craft. It would probably be in his best interest to keep his mouth shut, but well, Toph is blind so it’s not like she could be able to tell where his mark is from anyway. “I can read one of the characters, but not the whole thing,” he admits.

“Oh. Not knowing what your mark says must suck,” Toph tells, reaching out and patting him on the thigh. “I feel for you.”

“So does that mean you know what your mark says?” Sokka asks.

“I sure do!” Toph says, touching her arm happily. The mark is covered by a thick copper band around her wrist, but she pulls it off and shows it to him without a hint of shame. Sokka quickly averts his eyes, catching the barest hint of a green character. “I had to pay some kid to read it to me because my parents never wanted to tell her, but I’ll find her one day.”

Sokka smiles. “That’s cool.”

It’s nice to see someone so optimistic about their soulmate, especially when Dad’s soulmate was dead, they’d been confused about Katara’s soulmate for four long years before he turned up and was the freaking avatar, and Sokka’s soulmate was on the opposite side of the war. It was refreshing to see a normal girl with a normal soulmate. Sokka is almost jealous.

“You know, why don’t you just pay someone to read your mark for you?” Toph asks. “Like I did! I’m sure there’s someone around that can read it. What language is it in?”

“Oh, uh…”

“Are you guys talking about Sokka’s soulmate?” Katara asks, suddenly standing over them with her hands on her hips. Sokka hadn’t even heard her get out of the water. “Good luck trying to get any information out of him. He’s never even told _me,_ his sister.”

Sokka clutches his wrist to his chest. “I think it’s private, is all!”

“Oh, come on Sokka! You know all of ours. I literally saw Toph show you her mark a second ago!” Katara points at the way Toph is holding her cuff in one hand and leaving her wrist completely visible.

“I didn’t look!” Sokka insists.

“Why are you so secretive about it?” Katara asks haughtily, crossing her arms. “Why don’t you want to tell me? What, it’s not like it’s someone from the Fire Nation, is it?”

Sokka knows that she’s not really serious from the way she phrases her question, but he can’t help the way he freezes, heart constricting tightly in a deep rooted panic. Tongue heavy in his mouth, Sokka can’t find any words. He stares at the ground and allows his companions to come to their own conclusions based on his silence.

“Sokka,” Katara says, and Sokka shuts his eyes against the tone of her voice—a blend of disbelief and shock. _“Is_ your soulmate from the Fire Nation?”

Katara’s voice takes off a softer tone as she asks that question, like a mother trying to console a scared child, and Sokka can’t bring himself to look at her. He can’t bring himself to look at any of them, terrified of what he’ll find if he does look up.

“Oh, Sokka.” There’s a shuffle that he flinches against, and to his surprise a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. Opening his eyes in shock, Sokka is greeted with a sea of brown hair. Katara. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Scared,” is the first thing Sokka can say, his face pressing against her bare shoulder. If he’s being honest with himself, Sokka is still kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s waiting for the truth to finally register for Katara, waiting for her to push him away and look at him with nothing but disdain in her eyes.

But that’s not what happens. In fact, Katara is quickly joined by Aang, and then Toph. Sokka doesn’t realize he’s crying until the sob escapes his throat. Before Sokka knows it, he’s full blown crying as he’s being held by the people he now considers his family. If it were any other circumstance, Sokka would probably feel pretty embarrassed about breaking down in front of them all. But as things currently stand, he’s just happy he’s not being booted out of the group.

“You’re my brother, and I will always love you no matter what,” Katara says as she clings to him tightly. “Do you understand me Sokka?”

Sokka nods frantically, unable to form words.

Katara pulls away, hands coming up to cradle Sokka’s face. Her thumb brushes against his cheekbone, comforting as she brushes away the tears that have collected on his skin. “Despite what you may think Sokka, your soulmate may be the echo of your heart, but you are still your own person. Take it from someone who’s met their soulmate: things don’t always click immediately. It takes effort. Sometimes it feels like Aang and I are like day and night.”

“Really? But you two seem so in sync,” Sokka murmurs, but he knows they’re all able to hear him. That draws laugh out of both Katara and Aang though, which makes him feel a lot better.

“Sokka, let me ask you this: do you feel like a complete human being?” Katara asks him.

“What—”

“Answer my question,” Katara demands. “Do you, without your soulmate, feel like you are complete?”

“Yeah,” Sokka says. “Yes.”

“I think you need to understand that your soulmate isn’t necessarily a manifestation of who you are as a person, despite the term we use. You already are a complete soul. Your other half is meant to help you grow, help you learn. Who they are doesn’t define who _you_ are, Sokka.”

“Oh. Sounds less life altering when you put it like that,” Sokka admits.

“I’m not going to judge you for who your soulmate is,” Katara says. “None of us are. Right, guys?”

“Right!”

“Yup.”

Sokka smiles, a wobbly upturn of his lips, and sinks into the group hug fully, all those five years worth of anxiety over being discovered finally seeping out of him.

“Soooo… what’s the name, then?” Aang asks, only to receive a very sharp jab to the side from Katara. “Ouch! Hey, that hurt!”

“Aang! You can’t just ask that! Sokka will tell us when he’s ready.”

“Yeah, Twinkle Toes, that was a bad call,” Toph says with a snicker, and Katara’s ire turns on her in an instant.

“You’re the one who brought this up in the first place, Toph!”

Toph sputters, “Hey, I was totally willing to drop it! You’re the one who marched over here demanding he tell us what language his mark was in. That is _not_ my fault.”

“Yeah!” Aang yells in agreement.

Sokka laughs, pulling away from the hug and wiping his dripping nose with the back of his hand. “Okay, enough fighting. I already told Toph that I can’t actually read the whole mark anyway. So, I can’t really tell you what the name is.”

“I can read it for you if you want!” Aang says, always trying to be helpful.

“No thanks,” Sokka says. “I appreciate the offer but I don't think I’m ready yet.”

“Is that why you were so against learning how to read the Fira Nation’s language?” Katara asks. “Because you knew you’d come to learn how to read your soulmate’s name sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah,” Sokka admits. “I know I can’t exactly avoid it forever but… I’d like to hold it off for as long as possible. I hope you guys can understand that.”

“You can’t outrun fate forever though,” Toph warns, the very echo of what Yue had told him before. “It’ll catch up with you eventually.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sokka says, and he does know. Doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

* * *

The thing about fate is that it doesn't care if you’re ready or not. Fate will happen when it wants to happen, and you simply have to deal with the repercussions.

The're almost to Ba Sing Se when Sokka finds the wanted poster for Prince Zuko and his uncle Iroh, who are now apparently deserters of the Fire Nation and on the run like the rest of them.

After walking for an entire day on foot, Katara had decided they were going to set up camp for the night to rest up. Toph and Katara had stayed back to set up “camp,” which was a series of very shoddy tents that had to be carried on their actual backs since they no longer had Appa. Lightweight and easy to carry had been deemed more important than comfort and sturdy. In the meanwhile Aang and Sokka were sent to collect firewood and maybe something to eat. Aang had offered to collect the firewood and so Sokka had set off to find something they could eat. 

When he sees the poster, he’s at the edge of a body of water with a spear he’s spent the past couple of days whittling to a fine point, waiting for any little fishies that might come swimming down the stream. There’s a wicker basket that they bought in a nearby town slung over his shoulder, and he’s already caught two fish. All he needs is one more for him, and then they can figure out a way to work around Aang’s vegetarianism.

Maybe there’s some berries laying around that he can snack on.

Sokka is snickering to himself as he imagines Aang looking sad with a handful of berries while everyone else in their group had their fill of delicious fish. That’s when he catches sight of the lone piece of paper tacked to one of trees by a part of the shore that evidently gets a lot of foot traffic. Leaving his spear at the water’s edge, Sokka walks over to the tree to get a better look. 

The wanted poster is singed around the edges, as if someone had lit it aflame (or tried to), and water worn from being up for some time. At first Sokka doesn’t even pay attention to the writing, too busy squinting at the likeness of the guy who’s spent months chasing them to every corner of the world. It’s pretty accurate, he thinks. The hair’s not the same though. The Prince had grown out his hair, if Sokka remembers correctly from their brief team up at Tu Zin when his crazy sister and her friends insisted on attacking them all.

Sokka’s shoddy knowledge of the Fire Nation language allows him to skim through Zuko’s description and last known sighting with some vague understanding. Funnily enough, it reminds him a lot of his own wanted poster that he knows Katara still keeps in her bag. They somehow always manage to get that thing back even after losing it in the middle of whatever scuffle they’ve managed to get themselves roped into.

It isn’t until Sokka glances up and sees a series of very familiar characters next to each other that his blood freezes in his veins. It almost doesn’t want to register in his brain, the way that Prince Zuko’s name is written. No. No, that can’t be right. Right?

Oh Spirits.

“What are you looking at?” Aang asks, coming up next to Sokka and shocking him into a yelp. A pile of dry twigs and sticks is tucked under one arm, and the other is pointing at the poster in Sokka’s hands. The poster is immediately crumpled in his fist as Sokka says, “Nothing,” in the squeakiest voice ever. “Nothing at all!”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Aang says, brow furrowing and lips curling into a little pout. A shine of mischief is born in his eyes, and that is all the warning Sokka gets before Aang is floating up around Sokka’s shoulder, using the element of surprise to pluck the poster out of his hand.

“Hey!”

Aang ignores that sound of protest, jumping out of Sokka’s attempt to grab at the little air bender, and stands on a tree branch well out of Sokka’s range. With a smile he unfurls the poster and squints at it. The smile falls from his lips almost instantly, replaced with an intense curiosity. “Whoa.”

“Crazy, right?” Sokka asks, going for casual. “Who would have thought the prince of the Fire Nation would fall as lowly as the rest of us? It’s surprising.”

“Yeah,” Aang agrees, twisting the paper side to side as he squints at it. He seems very preoccupied with the contents of the poster, and Sokka breathes a sigh of relief at having successfully avoided talking about his panic from earlier. “Katara look at this!”

As Aang flies off towards the camp to show Katara this new development, Sokka wants to rip the poster from Aang’s hand and look at it again to be sure. He wants to stare at that piece of paper until his eyes dry out from how little he’s blinking.

But there’s honestly no need.

Sokka had spent the last five years committing every single crimson stroke of his mark to memory. He doesn’t even have to take off his bracelet to check. The two were, without a doubt, a perfect match.

Prince Zuko was his soulmate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for mentions of self harm (just thoughts, no actions). to skip it, stop reading at "It wasn’t Sokka’s finest moment..." and you can pick back up at "Okay, maybe it hadn’t been as easy..."
> 
> took some artistic liberties with the combustion man fight i uhhhh suck at fighting sequences

It had been startlingly easy for Sokka to compartmentalize the whole “my soulmate is the heir to the Fire Lord turned traitor turned heir once more” thing. Once Zuko had betrayed Katara’s trust and helped Azula attack Aang again, all those lofty daydreams about Zuko turning good and helping them goes up in flames. Not that Sokka had those kinds of daydreams.

(Not often, anyway.)

It had taken a lot for Sokka to even come to terms with the fact that Zuko was his soulmate. He had gone through every single one of their interactions with a fine tooth comb, wondering if Zuko had been well aware of Sokka’s status as his soulmate the entire time.

He had to have been, right? While it made sense why Sokka had never been exposed to the Fire Nation’s language for most of his life, he expected Zuko must have received the best schooling available in the entire world. Surely he’d learned the languages used in both the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom, and surely the moment he learned of Sokka’s name, he’d have to have known. Right?

Sokka had almost wanted to believe that by some miracle Zuko had been as clueless as him, but he knew that hope founded on nothing was destined to crumble beneath his feet sooner rather than later. Of course the crown prince to the Fire Nation knew who his soulmate was, and like Yue’s father and once upon a time fiancee, he probably didn’t care about this kind of stuff. Not when there was alliances to be made and a nation to be led. Soulmates were too much of an unknown to be allowed to be a part of a royal’s life.

Maybe it was _that_ more than Zuko’s betrayal to Katara that drove Sokka into forcing this whole thing out of his head. He wasn’t even sure anymore. At the very least, it revealed some part of him that Sokka hadn’t even known still existed. By the time he’d turned ten and gotten this cursed mark, Sokka had been sure that he’d thrown out all those romantic notions about soulmates that all his peers had.

Apparently not.

Finding out Zuko was his soulmate had crushed the small piece of yearning that Sokka still harbored beneath its feet like rubble.

He hadn’t told the gang yet. In fact, Sokka wasn’t sure if he was even planning on ever telling anyone. This was a secret best taken to the grave.

There was a low that Sokka hit once, on that Fire Nation ship while Aang was unconscious and all of his friends and family had donned Fire Nation clothes that felt like licks of flame to their pride.

The cuff given to him by his mother had to be replaced with a sleek metal band from the Fire Nation so that they blended in perfectly in case they passed another ship. Not having spent the last five years molding to his wrist like his leather band had, it actually bothered him when he tried to sleep. So every single night Sokka would pull off the metal band and stare at Zuko’s name, hoping his gaze was fiery enough that it would burn the mark right off.

It wasn’t Sokka’s finest moment, but he had briefly considered actually getting up and sticking his hand in one of the fire pits up on deck and burning the thing off so he could finally be done with it. The temporary pain would outweigh the pain of reading his soulmate’s name every single day and knowing that it was steeped in tragedy.

Thinking over the scar on Zuko’s face, Sokka wonders if maybe Zuko had done that too. Maybe someone had done that _for_ him.

Pretty quickly Sokka had realized that this wasn’t the answer, and scolded himself for thinking such a thing. Burn himself? No way. Not only would Katara kill him if he did that to himself, but he could have caused irreparable damage to his hand if he’d done that.

Okay, maybe it hadn’t been as easy to ignore the whole Zuko is his soulmate thing as Sokka had said. Not at first anyway.

But by the time they’d made it to the Western Air temple Sokka likes to think he’s adjusted pretty well. Well enough that when Zuko suddenly pops up sporting a shaggy hairstyle and a wobbly smile as he greets them, Sokka only hesitates for a moment before following his friends’ lead and getting into a fighting stance. His heart might be pounding hard against his ribcage, but he’s more than willing to fight Zuko here and now if that's what’s necessary.

Zuko is completely unphased by this all and launches into the most awkward speech that Sokka has ever had the misfortune of hearing. “Hey, I heard you guys flying around down there, so, I thought I'd wait for you here. I know you must be surprised to see me here,” Zuko says.

And here Appa switches from growling to sniffing and licking him with excitement. It becomes quickly apparent that Appa actually trusts Zuko for some reason. Aang blinks in surprise and starts to lower his staff.

Zuko, after pressing a hand against Appa’s nose in a soft pat, continues, “Anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is that I've changed and I— uhhh, I'm good now, and well, I think I should join your group. Oh, and I can teach fire bending to you.”

Like a calm before the storm, there’s a moment where no one can find words.

Sokka breaks the silence first.

“Do you expect us to trust you?” he asks coolly, and the way Zuko’s gaze cuts to him speaks volumes that the rest of the group doesn’t catch, but Sokka does. There’s no way he can mistake the unspoken words shining in Zuko’s expression.

Zuko knows.

He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by Katara’s seething voice. “How stupid do you think we are? All you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down, and the moment I give you even the slightest amount of leeway you betray us and almost get Aang killed.”

“I can understand why you wouldn't trust me, and I know I've made some mistakes in the past,” Zuko says, hands balled into fists at his side. “Trust me, no one regrets it more than I do. But I’m trying to be better.”

“Appa does seem to like him,” Toph says with a shrug, but she’s never had to deal with Zuko’s ire personally so Sokka is inclined to ignore her.

“He probably covered himself in honey so Appa would lick him,” Katara says, which is what Sokka probably would have said if he could think anything besides _‘My soulmate is right in front of me. My soulmate is right in front of me and he was evil but now he’s not? Maybe?’_

“I just want to help,” Zuko says, sounding so earnest it almost breaks Sokka’s heart. And here is where Sokka makes the mistake of letting his guard down for a split second, letting stupid hope get the better of him for only the smallest of moments. Then he’s immediately burned when Zuko continues with, “Look, I admit I've done some awful things. I was wrong to try to capture you, and I'm sorry that I attacked the Water Tribe. And I never should have sent that Fire Nation assassin after you. I'm going to try and stop—”

“Wait, you sent Combustion Man after us?” Sokka asks, unable to keep the anger from his voice.

“Well, that's not his name, but—”

“You’re digging yourself into a bigger hole, Prince Jerk,” Sokka cuts him off, watching as Zuko’s shoulders hunch up to his ears, which are red from embarrassment.

“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up,” Toph says, looking a lot less welcoming than she had been a moment ago. Good. Zuko will find no allies here.

Aang refuses Zuko as both an ally and prisoner, and Sokka looks away as Zuko rises from his knees. Despite having had to jump through hoops because of Zuko for months, Sokka can’t bring himself to watch the boy pick up the pieces of his pride and leave with his tail tucked between his legs.

When he’s gone, Sokka turns away from them all, ignoring the way the rest of them theorize over what Zuko wants. His chest aches in a way that he knows it shouldn’t.

* * *

The temple is quiet at night. Sokka tiptoes around the sleeping forms of his friends before he makes his way out to the courtyard where Appa is asleep. The large bison opens bleary eyes as Sokka approaches, running a single hand along tufts of fur. It’s at times like this that Sokka wishes he was an earth or air bender, so he wouldn’t have to try to sneak off on the back of a massive flying bison that could very easily give him away.

Scrambling on top of Appa, Sokka takes a deep breath and steels himself for what tonight has in store. And then, “Yip yip.”

Appa takes off to the skies.

Luckily they manage to slip away unnoticed. At least, Sokka thinks they get away unseen. He won’t exactly know until they get back and if he is caught he’ll simply have to deal with Katara’s lecture. A price he’s willing to pay, if just for a chance to get some answers.

They fly up around the sharp cliffs and over grassy plains until they reach the forest’s edge.

Sokka brings Appa down right there and slides off him, landing on the ground with a soft thud. Appa wastes no time turning over and falling asleep where he lays while Sokka pulls out his boomerang and starts on his trek. He almost wishes Toph was here, who could lay out a mental map of the area so he could get a sense of where to begin looking. But he is alone, so with little choice Sokka walks into the blackness of the trees, squinting against the darkness and hoping he doesn’t trip on stray tree roots.

Animals and insects croak and chirp around him, a stark difference to the quiet of the temple where he’d laid on the hardness of the floor and waited for his friends to fall asleep. Here the night is alive, and Sokka minds his business as he makes his way through thick tree trunks and unbloomed flowers that brush against his calf.

Sokka walks circles around himself for almost an entire half hour, and wonders if this is perhaps a sign that he should give up and fly back to the temple before his absence is noticed. And then he sees the very first hint of light in the distance, hidden among the foliage. All Sokka can do is follow.

The light grows as Sokka approaches, and as the warm light casts a harsh shadow over his face he hears the crackles of a fire. Of course it’s a fire. There’s nothing else it could be. There’s no moon hanging in the sky tonight.

Sokka doesn’t know if he’s grateful for her absence tonight. On one hand, he breathes a sigh that tonight will not be witnessed by Yue; on the other hand, Sokka thinks he could use the emotional support.

The foliage gives way to a small clearing in the middle of the woods, and in the center of the clearing is the well fed fire and a lump beneath a blanket that can only be a sleeping person. Not knowing if it’s Zuko or not, Sokka takes a hesitant step forward. A branch snaps beneath his foot, causing the person to sit up in a panic.

“Who’s there? Stay back!” Fear burns through Zuko's eyes and he juts his hand out in front of him, palm facing forward.

“Wait, it’s me,” Sokka calls out a beat too late.

Flames roar to life from Zuko’s hand.

Sokka makes the mistake of putting his arm up to shield himself. The lick of flame touches the skin of his forearm, feeling almost ice cold for a brief moment before it starts to burn with a sharp intensity. Sokka yelps in pain and turns to retreat, his mind and heart reeling.

As he moves, so does Zuko. Not to attack though, as Sokka had expected him to, but to hold out an arm and call put in a pleading voice, "Wait, I'm sorry! It was a mistake!"

Sokka isn’t listening. He continues to run in the direction he came from, tripping on every root he had been so careful to avoid. It makes catching up to him easy work, and before Sokka can even see the clearing on the other side where he knows Appa waits for him, a hand clasps around his shoulders and turns him right on his heels.

“I’m sorry!”

Sokka’s arm still hurts so much it’s hard to focus on anything else, but his eyes still go wide at the look of Zuko’s unguarded face. He looks anguished, guilty—two things Sokka hasn’t seen from him during any of the times they’ve crossed paths in the last few months. It makes the boy stop in his tracks instead of yanking his arm back like he’d initially wanted to.

The air between them crackles with energy, and Sokka can hardly breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko repeats, looking earnest. “Let me help you. Please. I want to help.”

For some reason, Sokka finds himself nodding. He doesn’t speak, but he allows himself to be led back to Zuko’s makeshift camp. The entire walk back, Zuko clutches to his arm as though he’s afraid Sokka will change his mind and take off running in the opposite direction.

Zuko gestures for Sokka to sit on the dirt floor, which he does. His eyes trail over Zuko as the boy rifles through the contents of a brown leather satchel next to his makeshift bed. Out comes a white cloth, a small pot, a roll of bandage and a water skin like the one Katara carries with her.

“Let me see your arm,” Zuko says, coming over to him with the items and sitting cross legged in front of him. At the wrinkle of Sokka’s nose, Zuko sighs. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Sokka allows himself one more second of purposeful indignation before he holds out his arm for inspection. Luckily, the burn is on the arm that doesn’t hold his mark, so Sokka’s heart doesn't burst when Zuko touches his hand with his slender fingers so he can turn and twist his arm to get a good look at the burn.

The burn is decent sized, starting just below his wrist and blooming down to almost his elbow, violently red against his tanned skin. It's already peeling and bubbling around the edges. Sokka does not have much experience with burns so he doesn’t know how bad it is, but Zuko’s experience is quite literally on his face.

“Could be worse,” Zuko offers with a chagrined shrug.

“Could be better,” Sokka counters, finally speaking since he got burned.

Zuko’s mouth snaps shut.

He takes his hands off Sokka so he can uncap the water skin and pour out the contents onto the cloth, soaking it thoroughly. Pulling Sokka’s arm straight against him so that the back of his hand presses against Zuko’s chest, he says, “Tell me if it hurts,” before pressing the cloth against the burn.

It does hurt, but Sokka is more distracted with the pounding of Zuko's heart. He can feel it against the back of his hand, a fast rhythm that matches Sokka's own.They’re both barely concealed nerves vibrating beneath skin.

Sokka knows why he’s nervous of course, but he wonders what Zuko’s reasoning is. Not that he suffers from a lack of options. Sokka is—was?—the enemy. They’re soulmates and they definitely both know it. Zuko burned him, further causing a rift between them that he was evidently trying to mend.

"How is it?" Zuko asks, forcing Sokka to look up at his face. His voice is calm, the very opposite of his heartbeat.

"It's fine," Sokka says. It's the only thing he can say. In an echo of Zuko he continues with, "Could be worse."

Zuko's lip quirks in a barely there smile. He says, “We’ll keep it here for a few minutes to help with inflammation. Then I’ll put on this burn salve I have and bandage it up.”

“Where’d you get the salve?” Sokka asks.

“Stole it from the palace before I left,” Zuko answers. “I didn’t get much time to gather supplies so I just have the one pot, and this is the only bandage I have as well.”

That makes Sokka pause. “You really defected from the Fire Nation then? It wasn’t some kind of ruse to make us let our guard down.”

That makes Zuko go stiff, his fingers curling tighter around Sokka’s hand. The pressure against the burn stays constant though, which does not escape Sokka’s notice. The defective prince is still very delicate with Sokka’s injury. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh,” Sokka says stupidly.

Zuko gives a dry laugh here, obviously finding nothing about this amusing. It almost makes Sokka feel bad for the guy, but he tries to kill that piece of him dead before it overtakes him.

“Like I said, I know I was wrong and all I want to do is atone for what I’ve done to you all,” Zuko says, refusing to meet his gaze as he pats at Sokka’s burn with a cloth. “But I get why you’d want nothing to do with me.”

“Why don’t you just go back home and make up some stuff about why you ran off?” Sokka asks, and then curses his big mouth. Yeah, go ahead and ask your soulmate to go back to the enemy’s side, why don’t you? “If you’re so sure we don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Even if I wanted to go back—which I don’t—I can’t.”

“Why not?” Sokka cocks his head to the side.

“I kind of confronted my father and told him I was going to help the avatar to his face,” Zuko says with an almost air of casualness. “There’s no going back from that. I’d probably be imprisoned the moment I step foot on Fire Nation land.”

“Wow,” Sokka says, surprised that he means it. He doesn't know much about the Firelord if he’s being honest, but if the guy could continue on fighting a hundred year war for the sake of absolute power, he’s got to be a fierce sight to behold. “That takes a lot of guts.”

Zuko hums in agreement before removing the wet cloth—which luckily comes away with a minimal amount of blood. He rests the cloth on his knee and then removes the wrap from the pot, reaching into it and scooping out a generous amount of a green salve onto his fingers.

The strong smell of herbs hits Sokka’s nose almost immediately, causing the boy to wrinkle his nose. Whatever is in there is foul smelling and Sokka doesn’t want that anywhere near him. Zuko doesn’t care about Sokka’s delicate sensitivities though, pulling Sokka’s arm taut and eyeing the burn.

“It’ll probably sting,” Zuko says, and then rubs the salve over the burn before Sokka can even think about formulating a response.

Zuko is right. It _does_ sting.

“Ow! Zuko warn a guy, would you?”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Zuko chides, generously coating the salve all over the burn.

Zuko’s fingers running along his burned flesh hurt quite a bit, but the salve itself also seems to be causing a unique sensation—not unlike pin pricks all over his skin. Sokka fidgets, trying to ignore the pain and failing miserably.

_“Sokka.”_

“I can’t help it!”

“You should start feeling a cooling effect in a minute or two,” Zuko tells him.

“Distract me until then,” Sokka practically begs.

“With what?” Zuko asks, tilting his head.

(Sokka does his best to not find that endearing. He fails spectacularly.)

“I don’t know.” Sokka shrugs before bringing his free hand up to the back of his neck to rub it uncomfortably. “Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah.”

He realizes a little too late that Zuko’s eyes are glued to Sokka’s wrist, which is once more covered by his leather bracelet. It feels like Zuko sees right through the thing and right to his own name written on Sokka’s skin.

But there’s no way, right? _Right?_

Sokka’s panicked expression does nothing to deter Zuko, who points at Sokka’s wrist and starts talking. “We should probably—”

“Maybe not that!” Sokka shoves his hand behind his back like a child.

“What? Why not?”

“I mean— I can’t trust you!”

“But I just helped you with your burn,” Zuko says, eyes flashing with frustration.

“Uh yeah, and who caused the burn in the first place?”

Zuko’s mouth falls open. “It was an accident! I apologized.”

“Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss _that_.”

With the way that they skirt around the issue, Sokka can almost ignore the fact that Zuko definitely knows. Except that he can’t. Because Zuko knows. He _knows._ How long has he known?

Sokka grapples with his own sense of self preservation and his need to get the answers he knows he’s due. Having never been particular apt at holding himself back, it’s a losing battle.

Zuko doesn’t say anything at that, and so neither does Sokka. He just works on calming his tornado heart and ignoring the way Zukko’s fingers feel when they’re wrapped around his wrist.

The two sit on the floor, the silence between them speaking volume. Sokka can’t meet Zuko’s eyes, and Zuko has his free hand—the one that most certainly has the mark because he has a red cloth wrapped around the wrist—fisted into the cloth of his pants.

Fidgeting, Sokka finds it hard to maintain his silence and if the way Zuko is shifting from side to side, it’s probably the same for him.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to say anything,” Zuko admits at the same time that Sokka asks, “How long have you known?”

Zuko looks taken aback. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about it.”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind,” Sokka says haughtily. 

In front of him, Zuko takes a deep breath. “They always kept my wrists covered. Both of them. I can’t really remember a time that I didn’t have wrist cuffs. I didn’t get why but I was also a kid and I didn’t really care much either.

“When I was twelve though, I saw a servant’s mark and I asked about it. I think they were new though, because they told me it was their soulmate’s name. I’m pretty sure they weren’t allowed to do that because a guard came and pulled them away and I never saw them again.”

Sokka feels floored. Of all the things he expected, it wasn’t this.

“They never told you?”

“No,” Zuko says with a slight shrug. “But it was too late by then. I got curious. I pried the cuffs off with a small dagger that my uncle had given me and there it was. I couldn’t read it of course, but I wrote it on a piece of paper and put my cuffs back on so I wouldn’t get caught.”

“Did you?” Sokka asks, leaning forward.

“I don’t think so,” Zuko says. “No one ever reprimanded me for it and I never asked anymore questions, so maybe they thought, I don’t know, I let it go or something.”

“What did you do afterward?” Sokka asks, almost forgetting that this is Zuko telling Sokka how he discovered that they were soulmates.

“I scoured the royal libraries looking for the language,” Zuko says. “Which is easier said than done because we have four libraries. Eventually I found the right language and spent the whole day translating it.”

“It took you a whole day?” Sokka asks incredulously.

Zuko looks miffed and scowls. It’s almost funny how easy to anger the boy is. “I was twelve and there was no one there to help me. I’d like to see you do better!”

That’s as much of an invitation that Sokka is going to get, and he wastes no time jumping on the opportunity. “It took me a lot longer to figure out what mine said, but I had the added bonus of your picture being right next to your name.”

“Huh?”

“Your wanted poster,” Sokka clarifies.

“Oh,” Zuko says, mouth falling open. “Well, that’s convenient.”

“Mhmm. And well, you can imagine my surprise when I found out,” Sokka says.

“Yeah,” Zuko agrees, looking off into the distance. “I can.”

The pain on his arm has faded into a gentle cooling sensation, like Zuko had promised it would. He’d been so distracted listening to Zuko talk that he honestly hadn’t even noticed the pain much anymore.

“Anyway, my arm feels better. You were right, I guess.”

The launches Zuko back into action. “Oh! The bandage.”

Lapping back into silence as Zuko wraps the bandage around his arm, Sokka watches the look of concentration on his soulmate’s face. He’s quiet, gaze intense as he’s careful not to jostle Sokka’s burn any more than necessary.

There’s nothing particularly profound about this moment, but Sokka feels his chest grow tight. He almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, that’ how keyed up he is by this all. Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the burn, Sokka doesn’t know.

Here’s what Sokka does know: he’d come down here to get answers. He supposes that did get some answers; but now he has hundreds more. And Zuko is here, living and breathing right in front of him. He is the answer to all the questions Sokka has.

When Zuko finishes adjusting the bandage and ties it on, Sokka stands to his feet. Zuko stands with him, brushing dirt off his pants and looking like a very awkward turtleduck.

“You should probably head back,” Zuko says, eyes downcast.

“Yeah probably,” Sokka agrees. “So hurry up and pack so we can get going.”

Zuko looks up at him so fast it’s almost a surprise he didn’t hurt himself in the process. “What?”

To that, all Sokka says is, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

That spurs Zuko into action. He trips over his own boot as he scrambles to pack up his barely put together camp. It’s almost cute, seeing him scurry around in a panic, as if he’s worried Sokka will get tired of waiting and just walk off without him.

Once everything is packed up into a large bag slung over Zuko’s shoulder, he walks up to Sokka and looks at him expectantly. Sokka glances into the darkness of the dense woods and then back to Zuko.

“We could use some light,” he says and luckily Zuko is rather quick on the uptake. He holds his palm out and there, nestled into his palm, a little flame flickers to life. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

With the light, the trek through the foliage is a lot easier than it had been earlier, despite Zuko’s heavy pack and Sokka’s injury.

They make it to Appa in almost no time at all, and Sokka shakes him until he opens bleary eyes and stares at them. If Sokka didn’t know any better he’d think Appa was glaring at him for disturbing his sleep. But then Appa’s eyes slide over to Zuko and he sits up instantly.

“Oh yeah, you’re not happy to see me but you’re happy to see the dude who tried to imprison us, sure. Some loyalty you have there, Appa.”

Zuko cracks a smile at that, and then offers to hoist Sokka up onto Appa’s back. Sokka wants to refuse, but honestly moving his arm more than strictly necessary probably doesn’t seem like a good idea, so he graciously lets Zuko help him.

And then they’re off.

* * *

It’s quiet when they land back at the temple, with the sun starting to snake its way across the sky, painting it a pretty cerulean that reminds Sokka of home.

Zuko helps Sokka off of Appa’s back and Sokka silently hopes that this isn’t going to become a _thing_. He is not ready to deal with an over attentive soulmate.

It’s that thought—where he so casually thinks about Zuko being his soulmate—that makes Sokka freeze, and everything finally comes crashing back to him with the force of a frigid wave. Actually sitting down and talking to Zuko skewed Sokka completely, forcing him off course. It had been startlingly easy for Sokka to forget about everything that had been plaguing him in the months that followed the discovery of the identity of his soulmate and just have a conversation with Zuko.

Zuko is, without a doubt, his soulmate. Sokka can feel himself blooming into something else with Zuko—much like Katara had said. Without Zuko, Sokka was still a complete soul, but with Zuko, Sokka feels as though he can morph into something else. Something _more_.

He doesn’t know if he likes it, but he does know it terrifies him.

“Sokka? Where the heck have you been?”

Sokka and Zuko both freeze as Katara approaches, clothes rumpled from sleep. She’s barefoot and bleary eyed, and she evidently doesn’t notice Zuko there at first because her guard is down.

Zuko shuffles, moving to hide behind Sokka as if the non-bender can help him from Katara’s wrath. Sokka is scared to realize that he _would_ try to protect him. Spirits, one injury and a single conversation later and Sokka’s feelings are all scattered.

Behind Katara are Aang and Toph, both in varying degrees of alertness. Toph’s hair is an absolute bird’s nest, while Aang has indents on his cheek from resting his face against the crook of his elbow. Neither of them look particularly alert enough to notice Zuko, but Katara certainly is.

“Is that—” Katara’s mouth falls open in surprise before her face twists into a look of rage. “What are you doing back here?”

Sokka curses the way his body automatically moves to cover Zuko even more. Katara looks taken aback, shock bleeding into her expression.

“Sokka, what are you doing?”

“Katara, there’s things you don’t understand,” Sokka says, his throat feeling tight.

Katara’s eyes cut to the bandage around Sokka’s arm, and she seems to grow even more angry. She points at their direction, looking affronted. “How did you get hurt? Did he do that to you?”

“If it helps, I apologized,” Zuko says, and Sokka elbows him with his uninjured arm.

“You really aren’t helping,” he hisses when Zuko frowns at him. Really, he has no right to look so cute when he’s pouting. He’s going to put Sokka in grave danger with his own stupid feelings if he keeps doing that.

“Sokka, explain this right now before I wake up the rest of the temple and we kick you _both_ out.”

It’s a bluff. Katara would never give Sokka the boot. At least, Sokka doesn’t think she would.

And he means to lie. He means to come up with some brilliant excuse that will convince his friends that Zuko is good now and he’ll never betray them ever again; but his mouth refuses to cooperate. Everything is a jumbled mess and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know if Zuko’s loyalty will stick this time around. He’s being stupidly hopeful again.

“He’s my soulmate,” Sokka blurts, and then immediately realizes it’s the first time he’s actually said that out loud. Even Zuko, who is now staring at him with his mouth agape, hadn’t actually explicitly used the word.

Well, there was no taking it back now.

“What?” Katara looks as though she’s been slapped, but that’s quickly replaced with a newfound anger. “Sokka you’d better stop playing around. This isn’t funny.”

Oh. She doesn’t believe him. Crap.

As if his body is running itself, Sokka turns on his heel and grabs Zuko’s wrist—the one he knows has the mark—and holds it up. Zuko allows him to do this, and he also allows Sokka to untie the cloth covering his mark and pull it off.

He knew his name was there of course, but the sight of it causes his heart to stutter in his chest. There it is, his name written in a blue so dark it reminds Sokka of the deepest parts of the ocean. For a second all he can do is stare at it with wide eyes before he gets a hold of himself and lifts Zuko’s wrist for everyone to see.

Katara sucks in a gasp, hand coming up to her heart and looking properly scandalized. Sokka does not get the luxury of showing how much the previous night has affected him, so he keeps his head held high and looks his sister in the eye.

“I’m not going to abandon him,” he says, the very echo of Katara’s words when she first found Aang and Sokka has been mistakenly trying to kick him out of the village.

“Sokka…” Katara’s voice trails off, glancing at Aang, who has yet to say a word. She’s conflicted. Sokka can tell that she’s battling with herself on what to do, but if he knows his sister like he thinks he does, then there’s no way she’s going to force him out now that she knows the truth.

“How long have you known?” Aang asks suddenly. He doesn’t look angry, just curious.

“Since just before Ba Sing Se,” Sokka says, being honest for once in his life. It feels as though a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and he can breathe. This is it. There’s officially no more secrets for him to keep.

As Katara opens her mouth to keep talking, there’s an explosion to their left.

Everyone dives out of the way as rock and debris goes flying, and there’s a frantic moment where everyone quickly glances around to make sure nobody is hurt. Sokka’s eyes graze across Aang and his sister as they quickly disappear behind a pillar, luckily in one piece. Toph has dived behind a wall of rock of her own making. A final glance behind him shows that Zuko also ducked out of the way, and at the sight of him unharmed makes Sokka sigh in relief.

It’s short lived because another shot is aimed in their direction, directly at the pillar where Aang and Katara are hiding. The pillar holds, but rubble goes flying everywhere and Sokka has to shield his face from it.

“Katara!” Sokka calls out, moving his arm and catching the end of Katara’s hair as she—and probably Aang—duck around a corner.

“We’re fine,” comes Katara’s voice through the courtyard, and Sokka can breathe again.

And then Zuko shatters any solace Sokka feels by jumping up on his feet and running off in the direction the shot came from, putting himself in danger by running through the courtyard without any protection.

“Zuko, where are you going?” Sokka calls out, voice going shrill.

“Trust me,” Zuko yells from behind his shoulder, and then he throws himself off the edge of the temple.

Sokka doesn’t even have time to scream.

There’s a good couple of seconds where Sokka is absolutely terrified that Zuko really jumped, but then he sees Zuko’s hand gripping onto a rock jutting out of the cliff. The boy is as quick and agile as a spider monkey, climbing up towards the direction of the shot, another building further down the cliff. Watching Zuko scaling the side of a freaking cliff makes Sokka’s heart practically leap from his throat. He’s so terrified of the boy falling to his death that he almost scrunches his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to watch.

“Sokka, get over here,” Toph says, waving a hand to beckon him to her.

Sokka glances at Zuko and in the direction he’s heading, and then catches sight of the source of the shots: Combustion Man. His eyes are neither on Zuko nor Sokka, so Sokka takes the opportunity to sprint to Toph’s side and grab her by her collar before running to where Aang and Katara are hiding, dragging the blind girl behind him.

“Where’s Zuko?” Aang asks, evidently not having seen the boy scale the cliff side.

“He went to deal with Combustion Man,” Sokka says.

Another shot chips away a good portion of the wall, causing everyone to cower.

 _“That’s_ who’s after us?” Toph asks after the temple has stopped shaking.

“What if that’s his liaison and they’re meeting up to betray us?” Katara asks, looking angry.

“I trust him,” Sokka snaps, and then he’s shocked to realize that he means it. “He wants to help. I _trust_ him.”

“You trust him not to get us killed?”

_“Yes.”_

“I hope you’re right, because there’s no way we can handle much more of this,” Toph says as yet another shot comes their way. “He's going to blast this whole place right off the cliff side at this rate!”

Combustion Man is relentless in his pursuit of Aang, it seems. Even when they hear a scuffle and then Zuko’s pleading voice carries through the canyon, he is undeterred.

“Stop! I don't want you hunting the Avatar anymore! The mission is off. I'm ordering you to stop.” Silence, and then another shot. Sokka's chest constricts when he hears Zuko yell yet again. "If you keep attacking, I won't pay you! All right, I'll pay you double to stop!"

From his vantage point, Sokka can’t actually see what’s happening. There’s a shuffle, the crackle of fire, and then a yelp followed by the sound of an explosion that shakes the very ground he stands on. Unable to help himself, Sokka peeks. He doesn’t see Zuko, just the very obvious lack of the ledge that once housed both Zuko and Combustion Man.

They watch as Combustion Man falls, barely managing to catch himself on another building ledge before he falls into the depths of the canyon. The danger he’s in obviously matters very little to him, because he continues to aim and take fire at them. They lack the same power as they had before, but Sokka still isn’t inclined to fully stick his head around the corner for fear of losing it. He starts to pull himself up onto the ledge and stands back to his feet.

Sokka still can’t see Zuko, but he does his best not to let his terror show on his face.

“I can't step out to water bend at him without being blown up and I can't get a good enough angle on him from down here,” Katara says, biting on her nail as she tries her best to take another peak.

Sokka pauses, and then an idea comes to him. “I know how to get an angle on him!”

Sokka waits for another shot to land by them, and then while he has the opportunity he sticks his head out from around the corner, dodging one more shot before he launches his boomerang at the man. The boomerang hits its bullseye, causing Combustion Man to get knocked back to the floor. It comes flying back to him, and Sokka plucks the boomerang straight out of the sky.

Unfortunately it's not enough to keep Combustion Man down. As he gets up he’s clutching his head in pain and there’s a hardness in his gaze. Sokka knows he should probably go back into hiding, but his wide eyes are stuck on the way Combustion Man staggers to his feet and aims to shoot again. He sways back and forth, shaking his head viciously.

The shot goes off, slamming into the edge of the ledge Combustion Man is on rather than where they are hiding.

Everything rumbles, and then Sokka can only gape as the floor beneath Combustion Man seems to vanish. He scrambles out of his hiding place, ignoring the screams of protest from his sister. He runs to the edge and watches the building fall deep down the canyon.

He turns on his heel to see all his friends walking out from around the corner. “Did anyone see where Zuko went?” Sokka asks, shocked that his voice sounds absolutely wrecked. The terror that Zuko may have fallen down the canyon with Combustion Man constricts around Sokka like a snake, gripping him tight.

“Sokka,” Aang says, voice soft.

There’s a stinging in his eyes but he forces himself not to cry. He won’t cry until he knows.

"Sokka," Aang says again, voice suddenly turning bright.

"Huh?" Sokka asks, wiping the moisture from his eyes.

"Look!"

Sokka looks where Aang is pointing. Dangling from a large tree root hanging off the ledge above their heads, dusty but looking no worse for wear, is Zuko. There’s a cut on his cheek and his clothes are rumpled and ruined, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters right now.

Sokka’s feet move before he’s aware of what’s happening. As Zuko slowly climbs down the root Sokka breaks out into a run. The moment Zuko’s boots touch the ground, Sokka’s arms wrap around his neck and pull him in for a hug, burying his face into his neck.

“I thought you’d died!”

“Obviously not,” Zuko says. He’s extremely still in Sokka’s arms, but Sokka clings to him tighter. He’s not going to let go until Zuko reciprocates.

It takes a moment, but when he feels Zuko’s arms slowly come around his back, Sokka smiles against Zuko’s collarbone. Zuko’s fingers curl into the small of Sokka’s back, clinging to his clothes tightly. It’s as though they’re in their own little bubble, and Sokka is finally starting to understand this soulmate business.

Eventually Sokka does pull away, but that’s only because Zuko goes back to being stiff as a board and whispers, “Your sister is giving me the evil eye.”

With a sigh, Sokka untangles himself from Zuko and turns to look at his approaching friends, who are all varying degrees of wary about Zuko's presence. Surprisingly, Aang looks the most welcoming. Unsurprisingly, his sister looks like she's about to commit a murder.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but... thanks, Zuko,” Aang says. 

Zuko immediately launches into his second apology in just as many days, wringing his hands together. “I really am sorry about what I’ve done to you, and I want to do what’s right. I know I didn't explain myself very well yesterday, I've been through a lot in the last few years, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me. But I know now that no one can give you your honor. It's something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what's right. All I want to do now is play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world.”

Shocking everyone, Aang gives Zuko a saccharine smile. “You know, I think you _are_ supposed to be my fire bending teacher. When I first tried to learn fire bending, I burned Katara, and after that, I never wanted to fire bend again. But now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love. I'd like you to teach me.”

“Oh,” Zuko says, shocked in the face of Aang bowing down to him. "Uhhh—I mean, I'd be honored to be your teacher. Thank you for accepting me into your group."

Aang stands to his feet and looks at the rest of the group “Well, I wouldn't want to do this without my friends permission first so... what do you guys think?”

“Fine by me,” Toph says with a shrug.

Sokka doesn’t even bother to reply. He’s made his stance very clear from the get go.

Everyone’s eyes slide over to Katara, who’s standing there with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips. When she catches all their stares, she rolls her eyes and sighs.

“He can stay,” Katara relents. “For now. Aang needs a fire bending teacher and I’m not cruel enough to force your soulmate out because I know what that feels like.” Here she turns to Zuko and pokes his chest with her index finger. “Just know I’m keeping an eye on you and if I see any funny business, you’re going to have to deal with me.”

“Got it,” Zuko says, taking the words deadly serious. It’s almost comical, given how he’s got a few inches on Katara and has to look down as she threatens him.

Sokka feels light. He takes Zuko’s hand and tells him, “Come on, I’ll take you to your new room.”

“Oh, okay,” Zuko says with a nod, allowing himself to be led through the rubble that was once the courtyard. Their fingers intertwine.

“An _empty_ room Sokka, not yours,” Katara calls out of their retreating figures.

“Okay Mom, whatever you say!”

Zuko laughs, as pretty as bell chimes. His fingers tighten around Sokka’s and Sokka finally allows himself to let hope bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> the languages in this fic are technically made up, but in my head i was comparing the fire nation language to chinese (as that's what was used in the show) and the water tribe language to inuktitut
> 
> i'm on twitter @birdlaced


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